


Perfect Lie

by Drago



Category: Raphael (Band), rice - Fandom
Genre: Depression, Japanese, Japanese music, Jmusic, Jrock - Freeform, M/M, Mentions Of Angry Sex, Suicide, Visual Kei
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-17 01:21:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1368730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drago/pseuds/Drago
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Translation of one of my fics about Yukito and Kazuki from Raphael (I'm not sure many people know them anymore...) This has nothing to do with real events. </p><p> </p><p>  <i>They're both exhausted. Kazuki just can't take it anymore, suddenly even breathing is too much.</i></p><p> </p><p>(...not a native and no beta, eh)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfect Lie

\- What the fuck is wrong with you?!  
Yukito flounces around the room emptying shelves and angrily throwing clothes onto a chair. Other things fell victim to his anger, landing on the floor. Empty glass fell off the sill and broke on the cold, light floor, its pieces waiting for the careless foot. Kazuki started when his guitar hit the floor with a loud thud. Younger man didn’t even notice, and maybe he had every right not to, after all Kazuki provoked him with his silence.  
\- Why am I even asking… Do you know anything besides notes and chords? Should I tell you what’s wrong? – asked Honda and immediately answered himself. – You don’t even fucking know why you’re alive! You don’t see any point in it, Colourful pills are making you feel good, so that you can smile on TV and fuck everything else. Why do you even bother with playing, does it even matter to you?! Say something, for fuck’s sake. Can’t you even answer me?  
Slim, frail fingers caught Watanabe’s chin in a surprisingly strong grip and forced him to look into Yukito’s pretty, although darkened with anger, eyes. It hurt.  
He answered.  
\- You like it when I play. When we play. You enjoy it and…  
The guitarist wanted to say that he likes to see a younger man smile, likes to watch his eyes crinkle a bit and his face glow with joy. He didn’t manage, Yukito’s faced screwed up into an ugly grimace and he hissed:  
\- I don’t need your playing to be happy. I don’t need you or your fake happiness either. It’s pathetic, not having a purpose. How old are you?  
Kazuki stood up even though he had no idea where to go. Finally, he turned around towards the bathroom. Honda pushed him hard enough for him to trip, but not fall.  
\- Go then. Take your pills, stuff yourself, seal it all off. It’s the only thing you’re good at, you useless… you…  
Bassist was at a loss of words. Watanabe looked at him.  
And it ended up the way all of their fights did – between creased sheets, on a bed too small for two people to lie in without spooning.  
Yukito didn’t cry, he never did, it was Kazuki’s eyes that filled with tears when he didn’t know what to do.  
\- I’m tired of it all, Kazuki, of struggling. Do you really think I’m strong enough to lead my life and search for the life purpose for you? It’s too much. It doesn’t matter how much I love you, I’m tired of babying you, tired of your fucking problems – murmured the bassist, his eyes glued to the wall.  
The older boy suddenly felt cold, as if warm body that he was hugging became chilled like a corpse. He kissed his lover’s forehead.  
\- You’re right. I’m going to do something about it.  
His voice was surprisingly strong, like a voice of a grown-up man. As if Watanabe matured in few minutes of silence.

***

Slight, pale body lay under a thin quilt. Chest raising and falling steadily, bassist was asleep. His hair spilled all over the pillow, and he looked innocent. Kazuki kissed his upper lip which was soft and more prominent than the lower one. Yukito didn’t like it while guitarist loved the small, charming flaw. Kazuki loved Yukito, but the other boy was right. It wasn’t working.  
He looked at his lover one last time and left the room. Door closed with a quiet click. In his room he turned on a small lamp and sat on a bed.  
There were two vials sitting on a cabinet, full with fucking pills that he’s been taking for so long that he couldn’t remember his life before them. Before rivotril, xanax, valium and others which passed through his short life. There were plenty of pills waiting for him, he knew that. His hands didn’t even shake, he didn’t gag. He swallowed vials’ content like a good boy he ought to be. He smiled at the thought that he won’t ever be a burden again; neither for himself nor for anyone else.

***

Yukito woke up later than usually. Maybe because he was tired from fighting and sex. He was surprised to find bed empty, but Kazuki might have woken up earlier. His eyes fell on clothes he pulled out. It always happened.  
He took a quick shower. Kitchen was empty as well, which worried him. He tried to quell this feeling by preparing strong coffee for himself and sweet, milky one for his lover. He knocked on Watanabe’s door, but there was no answer. He hesitated before coming in.  
Kazuki was covered with a patchwork. Yukito would be fooled if it weren’t for the two empty vials standing on a cabinet. Older boy’s cheeks were pale and very, very cold. Honda drew back, cold felt like sharp needles. Or maybe it was his imagination.  
He knew that calling for the ambulance was pointless, but he did so anyway, like the law stated. He called the ambulance, the police. He tried CPR simultaneously thinking that it was the last time his lips would touch Kazuki.  
In the ambulance he remembered his lover’s last words, how composed and content he seemed to be. He understood that this was the moment when Watanabe decided what to do with his life.  
Everything happened so quickly, Yukito didn’t remember the funeral, didn’t remember people who came. He remembered that Kazuki’s parents weren’t there, he wouldn’t want them to be.

***

\- What would you do if I told you it was my fault? That I helped him, my words persuaded him to do it?  
Yuki raised his head, as if he wanted to scold Yukito, but his eyes met bassist’s, and he understood that it wasn’t an unjustified guilt or a sick joke. Honda lost a lot of weight during past days, there were dark, almost black bruises under his eyes. Vocalist let out a quiet sigh.  
\- I don’t know anything Yukito, and I don’t want to. It’s you who is going to live with that.  
If Yukito wanted someone to listen to him, and say, that it wasn’t his fault because Kazuki would sooner or later end up this way, he had to be disappointed.  
Or maybe he only wanted to say it aloud. Yuki had no intention of dwelling on it. He preferred to stay the way he was – as a friend. Without judging. 


End file.
